[CLOSED] THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT LARRY

[katabasis]

WHO: Alistair, Flint, Lino and Yseult
WHAT: Four ultra competent people devise a foolproof plan to capture a disgraced Venatori mage.
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: The Road to Marothius
NOTES: OOC Notes

It's going well.

They'd first spotted the little party late in the day as it wound its way along a low, flat stretch of road just east of the foothills. By the looks of things - namely the impatient picture the leading guard had painted as he spurred his horse along and the rapidly lengthening of shadows cast by the narrow trunked trees studding the roadside - they'd been running behind schedule. Now, two hours later, they appear to have lost enough time to force them off the road and make camp at the edge of a dry creek bed. Evidently no one had felt up to traveling by the waning moon.

Across and slightly down the creek bed, four members of Riftwatch have paused there in the bramble of stick thin trees and tall drying summer grass. It's dark and pleasantly cool, and though there's no seeing the fire of the neighboring encampment around the bend of the creek, some trick of the exposed river stones carries sound down from it - the wordless clank of a cooking pot, some fleeting snatch of conversation, and the occasional word from the elderly mage himself. 'When last I came this way, we rode twice this distance in half the time--' he drones.

From their hunters blind, Flint unpacks a series of hand crossbow bolts from the bundle set between them.

"You're the lightest on your feet," he murmurs, tipping his head toward Yseult. "If you post up north of the camp, we can drive Arvina straight to you."

Comments

[hassaran]

"He's still a mage," Yseult points out, producing a vial from a pocket and setting it down beside the bolts, "And we don't know for sure about the others even if we didn't see staves. We'll want magebane on everything, but we may still need to manage the few minutes until it works if he chooses to stand his ground. You've a plan for that?"

[imbroccata]

"Should take them out quietly," Lino is currently playing the scout, posted nearest the camp of the four of them. He's listening to the old mage blather on, to the sounds of the escorts go about their business. "One by one, until Arvina's the only one left. Less chance of drawing unwanted attention."

[byblow]

"I can help with the magic," Alistair says, patting down the pouches and pockets affixed to his armor, "if I haven't dropped my—no, wait."

There it is. Vial of lyrium. It might kill him someday, if the taint weren't going to get him first—but since the taint is going to get him first, no harm done.

"But I'm very loud on my feet, so that's..."

Not ideal.